Imagine–It was My Childhood

Sunset Swiftly Becoming Twilight

Many of my posts have been about living on the farm back in the 50s and 60s; trying to relay to my few readers the joy and contentment of my childhood.  I saw this photograph on Facebook recently and for some reason this picture sums up all that is in my heart.  Maybe if you use your imagination, you can feel my contentment. 

Imagine a gentler time, no cars honking, no sirens blaring; just the peaceful end to a perfect fall day.

  Imagine the sun setting just like that photo.

Imagine the changing fall colors of the oak trees.

Imagine the grassy aroma of the dry dusty grass at summer’s end.

Now, imagine five little children driving the cattle back to the barn.

Imagine the cows meandering through the meadow, tails swishing over their backs, mooing softly.  

Imagine the voices of these children, perhaps singing, their breath steaming in the cool evening air; their faces red from the cold.

Imagine the sunset slowing descending in the West. 

Imagine  the eerie twilight creeping in. 

Imagine children running to the back door—slightly, only slightly, fearful of the coming darkness.

Their chores are done.  Soon they will be inside doing homework and maybe watching a little television.

Now imagine these five children in their homemade flannel pajamas and nightgowns  safely tucked in their beds—safe and sound! 

Imagine this bucolic scene.  Imagine this as your childhood.  It was mine!

Many thanks to Brett Day for the use of his lovely photo.  It was taken on Kathleen Hecker’s farm recently.  While this photo is not of my family’s farm, the picture was uncannily similar.  Thank you, Brett, for permission to use your photo and thanks for the memories.

Do You Know What the Best Part of My Day is?

My grandchildren and me—Mother’s Day 2015

This afternoon, Logan, next to me on my right (the little guy), called me.  He didn’t  have to say three words before I knew he had some exciting news.  He told me he lost the tooth that he’d been working on for a while.  In fact only yesterday he had me wiggle the tooth, but it just wasn’t quite ready to come out.  He knew that I would be as excited as he was because we’d worked on it together.  If I understood him in his excitement, his friend on the bus accidently hit the tooth and out it came, but somehow the other little boy also got hurt and was bleeding, too.  He told me that the other little boy said he was ok even though he was bleeding.  He said, “It would make me sad if he was hurt.”

And that isn’t all that made his day exciting.  He’d made 90 on his AR test (reading).  WAHOO!  I’d promised him a special reward at the end of the year if he read 5 books over his yearly AR goal and now he is one book closer to that reward.   

Then, be still my heart, he said this:  "Do you know what's the best part of my day is? It is when you answered the phone. I didn't think you'd answer."   I can’t even begin to tell you how much this touched me. 

Logan needed to share his excitement with me.  He wanted a personal conversation with his grandmother at the exact moment of his joy.  He needed me to answer.  He needed to hear my voice and my excitement to mimic his own. 

I have seen so many people receive a phone call and deliberately not answer the call.  How many people just needed to hear your voice, needed you to be as excited as they were?  That call is gone, but next time you start to ignore a call, think about the person on the other end.  Think of their needs…..are they needing a hug, are they needing to hear your voice.  “Do you know what the best part of my day is?” 

I love you. 

Simple Joys

Today I ran across an old post and realized I needed to reread my own words again.  Lately I have been struggling with finding "joy".  Everything I see on TV or read on the internet is just plain awful, mean, odd, weird, or plain old crazy.  I find myself being pulled into a negativity that I know isn't good for me; a place of darkness.  Here's my old blog post.


http://retirementthegoodlife.blogspot.com/2012/05/simple-things.html


After reading it twice I realize that I, me, am the person that controls my joy....not the TV, and certainly not the rants that I see on Facebook.  I am responsible for ME.  I need to find the "joy" of washing dishes again.  Perhaps it is all the little "joys" that make the deeper happiness in all of us.  I may have to plug in the iron.  The simple joys.


I love you.


I'm going to try to blog/write again, my friends.  It has been difficult finding time or should I say, difficult to find a time when I wasn't on Facebook.  I am trying my best to put Facebook away for a while because Facebook rants, and sometimes even raves, can put me in a "negative" mood.  I'm going to try.


I can't post this on September 26 without sweet memories of two people who had the same September 26 birthday; Mrs. Tucker and my dad.  Love them forever. 


 

I Love Rural Roads

I love rural roads.  We went driving today--out on the more rural Oklahoma highways.  For me, it is good to get away from the city once in a while; there's something about getting off the interstate and seeing those farms up close that fills me with a calmness that I just can't find in OKC. 


Town after town had a uniqueness that I wanted to capture and blog about, but there was one town, Paoli, that gave me pause for thought, and, of course, memories.  Paoli had only one small church that I noticed with a sign out front that we are having a fish fry tonight.  As small as the town was, I was kind of envious of their lifestyle.  They're having this little fish fry right about now and everyone in town will be invited.  I was envious that each person there tonight will know everyone else.  I was envious that the parents will feel comfortable enough to let their children run and play out doors.  There will be small talk, laughter, and then there's the fish. 


I was envious because they are living my memories.  My memories of having church socials, and how safe I felt running around the church in the evening in my little dress that tied in the back.  How exhausted and tired we all were on the short ride home with the windows down, dust flying--mom and dad and five little kids crammed into the car without regard to seatbelts. 


Idealistic????--maybe.  You are thinking that I look back with rose colored glasses.  I probably do, but isn't it wonderful that I actually do think of my childhood as pleasant rather one of disdain.  So, Paoli church, I hope you had a wonderful evening with your friends and your children.  I hope you rode home with the windows down, but with your children buckled up.

I love you.  I love rural roads.


There were so many other wonderful moments on our trip today that brought a lump in my throat.   The Model T we saw and wondered about the person who restored it and if they were having as much fun as we were in our convertible.  


One town was completely inundated with posters about tonight's football game and I wondered if their high school band was going to play the fight song as they marched down the halls to draw the kids out of class for a pep rally--just like dear old Prague High School did back in the day--"intestinal fortitude" as coach always alluded to in EVERY rally. 


Almost every town we went through on our way to Sulphur, OK, had a BBQ restaurant with a smoker billowing in preparation for their Friday customers. 


The dry grasslands getting crunchy from lack of rain; the cattle gathered under the trees for shade; the trees not quite ready to turn are beginning to take on that look of fall.  All in all, a very peaceful, calming day............reminding me so much of my childhood and thoughts of the holidays ahead.  You see, even I can't always look back.  We have to look forward and realize that happiness if what WE make it.  Let's make some happiness.   






 

She Just Makes Me Happy

Do you have someone in your life who just makes you happy just by being themselves?  I do.  This girl has no idea how much she affects me on a daily basis.  She makes me smile--every day!!!  Every day.  I look forward to her texts every morning and if she hasn't texted me by 9:30, I begin to worry.  And she tells me good night, every night.  And she can't wait to come to my house for Christmas.  I love you, Tara.  She just makes me happy.


That's all I have today.


I love you.


  

Pitching for the Very First Time

There he is.  My oldest grandson.

Pitching for the very first time.  He started

playing baseball only this fall, 7 games ago.

His grandmother couldn’t be prouder.

That’s it on the home front.

I love you.

By the way, these little boys are so cute in their uniforms.

The Old Farmall

We went to the Oklahoma State Fair today and right there in front of me was the old  Farmall H.  Whoa!! immediately sucked back to the 50s.  I learned to drive on a tractor just like this.  That’s the beauty of being a farm kid, you learn to drive ten years before the city kids.  I remember driving a tractor like this at 8 years old, maybe earlier; my brother at 6.  We’d do our best to keep those front two wheels between the row. 

I have to tell you, it really seemed a lot bigger back in the day.  No matter, it’s still huge for a 6 year old child.  Was it dangerous?  Yeah, probably it was.  You can take a look at the last photo and realize how open you were to moving parts, let alone those wheels. 

While I would be a little fearful of allowing my grandsons to drive one of these things at such a young age, I certainly am certainly glad I grew up on a farm………..and was allowed to drive that a Farmall.

I love you!!

Dad You Were Right

Tonight, I'm just setting in the swing pretending I have nothing to do.  I guess maybe I really don't have anything to do...................at this very moment (Sunday evening) which is sweet.  I remember all those Sunday evenings when I was a kid...........dreading my dad's Sunday night drill about how I should make really good grades in typing and shorthand.  Maybe I should let that memory go. 


Dad was smarter than I ever gave him credit back in 1966; a girl had two choices back then.  1)  Go to college or some sort of trade school or 2) Get a job!  Dad could see the writing on the wall and he knew he wanted more for his little girl than living on the farm as a spinster.  He wanted me to meet people and, let's face it, he probably wanted me to find a suitable husband.  Chances are I would meet more suitable husband material in the workforce than driving a tractor or bringing in the cows.  And job choices, let alone careers, were limited, too.  Oh, I had the perfect comeback to those Sunday night debates.  "Daddy, (whining) I will just work at Anthony's or be a waitress at Hamburger King."  Seriously folks, that is as far as my ambitions went especially on those dreaded Sunday nights.  I wasn't about to let my dad know he was wearing me down.  I just quietly passed those typing tests and my steno tests. 


In the end, as much as those Sunday night debates (arguments) irritated me, they actually helped change my life.  In fact typing, with dad's encouragement, probably was instrumental in making me the woman I am today.  It pushed me into a huge air force base, gave me a chance to make friends with people who were unknown to me...different even.  I broadened my horizons.  It allowed this little, extremely shy, farm girl to blossom and overcome some very deep seated self-esteem issues.............and only after 4 or 5 years, I was able to talk to people without turning red.


So nearly 50 years later, I am sorry I gave my dad so much grief over whether I passed a typing test.  Dad you were right.


I love you.
I had no idea what I was going to type about tonight, but this is where I ended up.  I hope to blog more often as it is therapeutic for me, but there are days when nothing seems important enough to write about..........but then again, my whole blog is nothing important.  So I guess I have my groove back.  This is all tongue in cheek.  It's just fun to see what pops into my head.